My River Story Pt 1

Danika Cuchetto (@danikainoregon) | Utah

Beginning with my very first trips on the Colorado and San Juan rivers at two years old, the few memories I have are plastered with red rock walls and tall waves of chocolate water. My parents ran a non profit on the river, taking me and my sister along on trips catering to disabilities like MS, Cerebral Palsy, Parkinson’s, HIV/AIDS, as well as at risk youth and more.

With many river trips to follow in my early years, the people who had been touched by the river began to stand out in a way recognizable even at my young age. I remember watching my dad and sister change on the river especially. They had a distinct way to themselves​ when they were on the water. Usually the loudest of the family, they were quiet in-between sets, then always quick and adaptable when thinking with the current. Today I can still see the same in so many of our closest friends from this time. To each their own relationship with the river, and not all were inclined to talk about it.

As I got into adolescent years I understood less and less and began growing apart from the river. Our lives still revolved around the river, but my entire family seemed to feel that pull except for me. They were all commercial raft guides at one time or another in their lives, my sister currently and my parents with their long history of running a rafting company in Utah. I guess from a young age I wasn’t keen on being on a raft, I think it was being a control freak, not trusting others and especially not the river itself. I remember how frustrating it felt. I was the black sheep, never joining them on big trips when we moved to California. At that age I thought I appreciated the river, I thought knew the vitality of rivers in general. But that wasn’t like the look in my parent’s and sister’s eyes, or the people I had grown up with my whole life. Why shouldn’t I feel the same love? I naturally had a hefty appreciation for the environment, this stuff is in my blood right? Why was there such a recognizable mental/spiritual block between me and the river? I still remember the feeling.

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